One if by land, Two if by sea.

 There’s a wonderful song that my brothers enjoy singing at the top of their lungs—it sounds like a drunk pirate yelling, over and over, “I’m shippin out to Boston, ohh ohh ohh, to find my wooden LEG”. Well, we shipped out to Boston, alright. The five hour drive turned into an eight-hour, two-car, million-luggage, bajillion bathroom-stop journey. And we found more than wooden body parts. Like a Five-star hotel in downtown Boston (for the parents…. The less-privileged children stayed in the semi-ghetto. But in my parents’ defense, they gave us a huge room. No complaining there), week-long subway passes, Red Sox tickets, historical sites galore, witch-hunt education, and tons of great family-bonding time.

Some of my favorite moments:

*Five of the seven children wearing Phillies jerseys while walking the Freedom Trail in downtown Boston THE DAY OF the Sox game. We learned many things from this experience:

1) Red Sox fans are super nice—no boos, catcalls, or threats all day! We were impressed.

2) There are a lot of Phils fans in Boston. We got tons of support.

3) There is no way to lose your family if 5 of the 7 kids are wearing bright red shirts—you can spot them in a crowded square from a mile away. The British were really stupid to wear red. And now I understand how people can always find me so quickly in a crowd.

*Going to Fenway to see a Sox game. Even with the two-hour rain delay, the park was completely full. Seeing the Green Monster up close, participating in a wave that went around the stadium FIVE times, starting “let’s go Phils” chants in right field, seeing Ellsbury hit a walk-off single in the bottom of the ninth, and spending five hours with my brothers and dad was definitely the highlight of my trip.

*Awkward 30-floor elevator rides with strangers—we all competed for the most awkward story: I rode twenty floors with a man who slumped over the railing, claiming to be “completely trashed” at nine pm, and my mother scolded a man for thinking I was the mother of my three younger sisters (resulting in a completely silent elevator ride for the next two minutes)—but the winner of the most awkward elevator-incident would have to be my brother, who got into a completely full elevator on the twenty-seventh floor, passed gas, and then proceeded to ride down to the lobby without stopping. According to him, the entire elevator emptied as soon as the doors opened and people were “literally gasping for breath.” I don’t doubt it.

*Walking the entire Freedom Trail. That trail was the source of a lot of jokes during the week (“I’m lost and can’t find my way around the hotel—there’s no red paint leading me to the pool” or “I feel so Free. F-R-E-E that spells free…” or “this trail is hardcore. Hardcore PARKOUR”) –but our trip wouldn’t have been the same without those 2.5 miles of historical significance. Even my grumbling brothers will admit that some of those sites were pretty cool. My favorite stop was the Holocaust Memorial, which gave a sober reminder of why we celebrate living in a country that was founded on freedom and still protects our liberties today.

Paul Revere's Tomb

*Early morning runs around the city, the harbor, and Harvard University. I loved running in the city—and Harvard was beautiful.

*Our nightly Panda Express feasts in the food court—yes, we went all the way to Boston and ate fast-food. We are uncultured.

*Midnight Subway rides every night with thousands of Red Sox fans.

*Swimming in our lovely hotel pools and antagonizing the poor hotel employee who reminded us every few minutes that jumping was not allowed. I’m not sure who came up with that insane rule, but it was entertaining to watch her try to stop three teenage boys and three rambunctious little girls from jumping into a very inviting swimming pool.

It was an incredible trip. I’m glad my parents were brave enough to take us—we haven’t all been invited on one of my dad’s business trips in quite some time (can’t imagine why). It was so much fun to be together as a family. I love all of them. And I want to go back to Boston. But I’m flying next time—you couldn’t pay me to sit for three hours in NYC traffic again…